This Is What Best Friends Do
by Momo6840
Summary: Best Friends are supposed to be there for you, whether it's having a random picnic and taking horrible fashion advice to reassuring them that they are still human on the inside.


This Is What Best Friends Do

Chapter 1: Steal Your Food

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Dragon Age. Not sure if you can own your inquisitor, but hey...

Yeah. This isnt really all that funny, but I thought I'd take a crack at it at the very least. You can't get anywhere if you never try, right?

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining in the cloudless sky, the grass was greener than the Emerald Graves, and demons were abounding in the fields. Yes, as blood splattered across the ground, a figure spun among the massacre, as gracefully as a fawn leaping through meadow grass.

Not far, another figure twirled a staff wildly, like a fancy baton twirler, sending beautiful wave after wave of vibrant purple magic into the oncoming platoon of demonic beings. Many demons were pulled into the depths of Tartarus screaming in outraged pain. It was music to the pairs of ears.

As the last demon disintegrated into nothing but bits of Shadow Essence and Spirit residue, the two fighters paused in the middle of the meadow, chests heaving as they fought their own personal miniature battles to catch their breath.

The Inquisitor twirled her daggers thoughtfully, absentmindedly flinging dripping blood everywhere. "Well, that was absolutely smashing."

Dorian sent her a smirk, tucking his giant stick of a staff onto his back where it belonged, the jewel at the top still glowing a menacing purple from leftover magic."Of course, Inquisitor. We just spent all our time, when it could have been spent having that lovely picnic we planned, fighting off the hordes of demons that spawned out of nowhere. It was marvelous."

Rena teased:"Oh, don't be such a grumpy butt, Dorian. You can't say you didn't enjoy plunging the dagger into that demon's chest." She paused a moment. "Oh wait, that was me!" Rena inspected her daggers, bringing them to eye level, looking for any speck of blood left on them, heedless of the amount of splatter of her clothes. "Besides, we needed the practice."

"You may have needed the practice." Dorian shot back.

Rena arched an eyebrow at the Mage. "That was a low blow."

"I know."

"Well played."

"Thank you."

The Inquisitor clapped her hands together. "So, how about that picnic?"

Had she not been covered from head to toe in monster gore, her eyes still sparking with the bloodlust of the fight, Dorian might have been inclined to agree wholeheartedly.

But now, as she hummed a soft tune under her breath, settling the pristine white cloth over the green grass, demon remains mere feet away, he was beginning to wonder if he had made the right choice for his sanity by agreeing to come.

"... And then, out of nowhere, the page comes running past, hat slipping past his eyes, fancy little slippers sliding off his feet, my mother hot on his heels. 'I don't ever want to see you in the this house!' She shrieked, sounding even more like the seagulls outside than usual. She then proceeded to march the poor page out the door, slamming it in his face before he could so much as utter a sound. Then, she turned to me, a look of horror coming over her face. 'if you ever do something like that boy, I will personally rip you to shreds myself!"

Dorian looked positively mystified. "And your father allowed this to happen?"

Rena nodded, taking a swig of white wine from the bottle. "He even encouraged it." A fond twinkle filled her multicolored eyes as she stared off into space. "My father, though he was often busy with business and what not, he always made time for his children, making games to play out of nothing, even staging silly little incedents like the page to happen. He was a good man."

"He must have been, to have raised such a wonderful daughter." Dorian commented.

Rena blushed ever so slightly. "Dorian!"

G

Dorian tilted his glass back in deference, allowing his own choice of drink to spill from the open bottle into his mouth.

While Dorian was preoccupied with drinking, Rena thought of a wildly funny idea. Dorian held a love of food that rivaled that of the Inquisition cook. No one messed with his food, lest they had a wish to meet their grave sights early.

Rena reached over, plucking the plate from Dorian's hand. She jumped up, and began sprinting toward the tree line, laughing wildly all the way. Dorian could only stare in shock. "Hey! That plate is mine!"

"Then come and get it!" Rena yelled, swerving around obtrusive trees and groping branches.

Dorian smirked mischievously, his marvelous mustache quirking up with his lips. "Oh, my dear, I think I can do better than come get it."

With a flick of his hands, the plate that had once been in Rena's possession flew into the air, nearly smacking her in the face in its flight back to the original owner.

"Oh no you don't! That food is mine!" She yelled, taking a leaping dive at the magically flying plate. "I'm not called a rogue for nothing!"

Dorian co to her to lazily trail his infer through the air, watching in amusement as the Inquisitor tried and failed multiple times to retrieve the flying plate. "You are right my dear, you are a rouge. But they only call you that for all your flirting with the nobles and whatnot."

Rena stopped in her tracks, tossing him a totally scandalized look. "Dorian! I'm not a rouge for flirting! It's my fighting style!"

"Not according to the courts." Dorian said.

Rena growled, preparing to take a swing at her magician when something came up from behind and smacked her in the head. The following included her falling on her face, the remains of Dorian's meal splattered in her hair and in her clothes.

"And that, my dear, is why you don't mess with a Mage." He leaned down, making eye contact with Rena as she looked up at him.

"Some pie?"

"Flip no, I'm not taking it from you."

"Not even apple pie?"

"... well, ok."


End file.
